CEREAL.

CEREAL. Prod. By Blū Tha Gürū Oh, I remember this now. Lol I remember the video. It's that little kid that wants pancakes but get cereal and then the prize in the box is a fucking robot that follows him to school and starts a dance party everywhere and then takes over everything—then the aliens come get the robot and start an even bigger party and keeps the kid up way past his bedtime—then he wakes up the next morning like “that was wild as f” and his mom serves him pancakes, but then he sees there's another new box of cereal on the counter that says “NEW and IMPROVED prize! EVEN BETTER!” And his eyes just stay wide with grief. Lol I can't believe I didn't remember that song. I was like “wtf is this” Well, there are still two other songs I straight don't remember writing, so… Let's check those out. —let's check those out. Oh, it's beat my face (Reminds me of 212) Didn't it have a video as well. Idk. Damn. I still have the other half of collection two to finish. Technically If you just out the beats from collection I.I into collection II it's finished. No. No? Collection I.I is collection I.I and collection II is collection II Facts. Damn. Why the fuck is collection II taking so fucking long. Maybe because it's called “antelhesis” I might never get to fucking collection VI. I sit here like I'm soaked in the rain Let go your government They got you working on Sundays Trying to torture the future president Fuck em then Who to call when you ain't got no dollars No godform Nothing to cook with the oats And sorry broke pork bellies Let go of your homeless Don't worry, When I slit open my wrists And it just keeps bleeding Till it fills up the streets From my open windows, in kitchen To the roads, over motorcycles And riverbeds Until the oceans cover All your dollars in my blood —a martyrdom for poverty. Don't call the barrel of my gun by the name of a friend If th verse is not a sing song Poor Johnny Don't fit the roads for shoes of horses If only to swallow the subsealed waves of demons Watch these possessions Be my witness Of the serpent Both programmed torturer To forage these words And misfortunate Recipient of karma Soul focus shifting from being de— —-railed. I never heard this With a producer's promise Money back garunteed All that isn't nessecary You're divorced With no children. And going on 40 Trying to fight a robot For an ombré sew on Thank you Gos for this. Right on, Who was that you decided not to call on As. Requested in sarcasm And on Opposite Day! SLIIIIIIIIIIIImmmm That's almost funny If I didn't know it was a program Here's a fake laugh For your weak ass But no orgasm For your lost cause Part of getting stronger is developing the strength to lower your weights, not just to lift them. Now I know I'm not wrong But these energy vampires Are putting my writing on a live wire Remember live wire? We should hire her. Stop confusing people for pedophiles When all it really is Is that a wedding band is a cage And the world is made on those who pray On weakness. —so most people are weak, then. What else do I got to do wrong? I want breakfast at Tiffany's Don't be mad If I wasted my time being honest Wit no reward Like it matters Pennies on the dollar Billions of dollars. Trillions of dollars Sins of the father Chinaman from Amazon Don't care much For politics Something wrong with mom Yo, she's gone son And it's all her fault, too She never wanted you {Enter The Multiverse} [The Festival Project.™] COPYRIGHT © THE FESTIVAL PROJECT 2019-2024 | THE COMPLEX COLLECTIVE. © ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. © -Ū.